The Runaway (Barrett Boys #1) - Jordan Ford Page 0,3

swagger that’s gonna reach me before I want it to.

I ignore the urge to swallow and keep my gaze steady. “He told me about it this morning.”

Luis is fifteen feet away from me.

I back up so the door is within reach. “I’ll check in when I get back.”

“Wait! What’s in the bag? What’s he wanting you to deliver?”

“I don’t know,” I hedge. “He never tells me what’s in the bag.”

“He also doesn’t get you delivering black backpacks. I think you’ve got the wrong bag, man.”

My stomach coils. I grip the bag strap and shake my head. “Nope. This was the one he said.” Now I’m nodding. And my voice is getting tight. Shit, I can feel it.

Keep it together, Michael.

I force a closed-mouth smile and keep walking back until my butt hits the door.

Luis picks up his pace.

Dammit! Why couldn’t he be as dumb as Buster?

If he sees what I’ve taken, he’ll haul me up to Sloan and they’ll question me until I’m black and blue. Even if they do buy whatever lie I manage to fabricate, they will never fully trust me again, and my movements will be that much more restricted.

I have to take this chance.

And I have to take it now.

Before Luis can reach me, I shoulder the door open and bolt.

“Hey!”

Sprinting across the concrete, I avoid Sloan’s big SUV and aim for the black Audi. I still have the key in my pocket from a pickup I did this morning.

“Hey!” Luis yells again. “Stop!”

I don’t glance over my shoulder, not wanting my steps to falter.

I’m nearly at the car. All I have to do is wrench the door open and hit the starter button. I know the streets around here better than anyone; I’ve been driving and figuring out the safest back-road routes for over a year. All I have to do is get through those gates and I’ll have the head start I need.

I’m reaching for the door when a sharp pop hits the air.

Less than a second later, an unexpected pain rips through my side.

“Ah!” I buckle, using the car to steady my fall.

Something just stung my torso.

Not something.

A bullet.

My elbow hits the window just as another one pings off the hood.

“Shit!” Wrenching the door open, I fall behind the wheel and start the engine with shaking fingers.

Luis is running toward me, his gun aiming straight for my head.

I punch the gas and duck. The car screeches away just as the back window shatters. Gunning it, I haul ass through the gate and swerve onto the road.

Luis will be calling for backup and running for the SUV. There’s no way they won’t chase me down. They’ve got connections all over this town, including some dirty cops they keep well-funded. I need to get out of this city as fast as I can.

Risking it, I press the accelerator to the floor and put as much distance between me and Sloan’s crew as I possibly can, praying the whole way that I won’t get pulled over by a cop—clean or dirty.

3

A Drop-out Waitress with a Plan

I hate cops.

Not all cops, just the arrogant ones who think they’re better than everybody else. Who strut into my family diner like they own the damn place and I should grovel at their feet because they’re worthier than me or something.

Well, he’s not the only customer here today, so he can just be served when I’m good and ready.

“Annie, honey. The Righteous Three are waitin’.” Celia points with a thumb over her shoulder.

I give her a pleading look, but she just shakes her salt-and-pepper curls. “I’m already looking after four other tables. You’ve only got two.”

“I’ll trade with you.” I grab her hand, but she flicks me off.

“Dean hates when we do that. And I don’t want to get you in trouble. Just put on a polite smile and ignore everything they say to you. Except the order. You need to get that part right.” She winks and grins.

I give her a deadpan glare that just makes her laugh as she grabs the tray of drinks and weaves her way to the back booth.

Mateo dumps a plate of food on the counter. I wrinkle my nose at it, wishing our chef had even a sliver of class. The burger is basically toppling over, the fries falling into the wilting salad. The guy needs some lessons on plating. I swear, this diner would be out of business if it weren’t the only one in Buckland Springs. I don’t even know why